Why You Don't Mess With Merlin
by ForIHaveOvercomeTheWorld
Summary: Claude is new in Camelot and he doesn't understand that Merlin and Arthur's banter is normal. He wishes to teach Merlin a lesson. Will the other guards stop him in time? Will they have their own story of foolishness to tell? Whump, bromance, no slash.
1. I Like Cheese

_Okay, here is the first chapter of the story that got the most votes. I know that I said I would probably wait until I finished my other Merlin story before I wrote something else but my muse for that story went on holiday or something. I just didn't want to give you guys a crappy chapter, besides; this was half done anyway. I'm not enitrely sure how long this story will be, but it definitely shouldn't be as long as my other one, so here's chapter 1. And please, I know it's cheesey at first, but give it a chance, there will be whump. There will also be bromance and protective Arthur, and plenty of banter and other great stuff. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or anything of great value other than my wonderful humor, which you can't have. _

_Warnings: Whump, violence, possible mild swearing, bromance galore. No slash as always, but if you choose to look at it that way then be my guest, I personally think that my own writing comes out a lot more slashy than I ever intend._

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><p><strong>Why You Don't Mess With Merlin<strong>

_Chapter one: Claude and his Naïve Outrage_

Once upon a time there was a kingdom called Camelot, a kingdom that was ruled by a man named Uther Pendragon. Unfortunately, (depending on whom you asked, of course, since some would consider it to be a good thing,) Uther had recently been betrayed by someone very close to him, and as a result he became ill. So his son Arthur became Regent; ruling Camelot in his stead. And Arthur had a manservant named Merlin who in fact was a very powerful warlock that was destined to help Arthur bring peace and magic back to the land of Albion.

But in Camelot sorcery is a crime worthy only of death, so merlin was forced to keep his power a secret even from his friend and master. And they were friends, they may fight and argue and call each other names but they were friends, the insults were never taken seriously. Except by one person.

There are many layers of society in Camelot, but generally servants are the bottom layer. There are peasants who provide basically everything for Camelot and are given some measure of respect since at least half of them own their own businesses. There are nobles who are always respected, at least, when they're in hearing distance. The nobles often become knights, though, and then they are given the utmost respect since they risk their lives for the whole of Camelot often on a weekly basis.

There is the royalty, which currently only consists of two people, one of which is loved and the other quite often hated, so that is a pretty succinct bunch.

And then there is the odd bunch; the people with no families or have been disowned. Those with very few skills and a desire bash a few peoples' head's in. Those people usually end up becoming the guards in the castle, and it's really not that hard to become one. You just have to have some basic skill with a sword and be one of those people who don't mind having a boring life.

Claude is one such person. He was born in Camelot but at a very young age moved away to live with his uncle when his parents died. His uncle had a simple farm that was right on the border between Camelot and Cenred's kingdom, or what was his kingdom until he up and died. As a result Claude new very little about the going's on in Uther's kingdom. Of course he knew the basics: magic is banned, Uther is king and Arthur is the crown prince, a lot of magical attacks have taken place recently there, Uther is going mad; things like that.

So of course he was a little out of the loop when he left his uncle's farm and went to Camelot in the hopes of becoming a guard.

He never really had liked farm work; far too dirty. And he really didn't have a lot of skills other than he was big and well-muscled, which isn't a skill as much as a God given gift.

Unfortunately, his sheltered childhood hadn't managed to stunt his ego at all. In fact, despite his lack of status he firmly believed that everyone had a place and they were _never_, under _any_ circumstances, to act any more less than what was expected of their social class. In short, servants act only like servants, nobles only like nobles, and guards only like guards. So you can imagine what he thought when he arrived in Camelot and saw the way a certain warlock manservant treated a certain prince who just happened to be his master.

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><p>Claude was ecstatic. He had never wanted much in life except to be a guard or someone mildly important in Camelot. He'd grown up hearing the stories of all the amazing and exciting things that happened in Camelot and, living on a farm all his life, he had really wanted to see something interesting for once. And so he thought that having any station in the castle would grant him his wish. And of course he was right.<p>

And so now the reason he was so happy was because he had finally been given his post as a guard. It was his first day and he was already eagerly anticipating the next eight hours he would spent doing nothing but standing still.

Well, he _was_ eager to get to work until he was distracted by something he overheard as he was walking through the courtyard.

"_Mer_lin! I told you that we would be gone for _four_ days! Didn't it cross your idiotic mind to pack enough food for four days so that we wouldn't have to come back _early_ due to lack of food?" the Prince Regent Arthur half yelled at his servant.

The two of them had gone on a hunting trip, but had come back several days early, and from listening to Arthur's rant it wasn't hard to guess why. They were both standing right outside the stables and by the looks of their argument they weren't going to be leaving anytime soon.

Claude stared in astonishment and growing anger as he heard the servant's reply.

"Well, _sire_," he said in a way that was the exact opposite from respectful, "I thought that since we were going on a _hunting_ trip that we wouldn't need so much food since your amazing tracking and killing skills would provide more than enough for us. Apparently I overestimated your talents," he said with a smirk that most people in Camelot would recognize as his "mock" smirk; the one that meant he was just playing with Arthur. And likewise people would know by the tone in Arthur's voice that he really wasn't all that mad at his servant.

But since this was the first time Claude had been in Camelot in over twelve years he had no way of knowing that, unless he was a really good people reader, which very few people were these days. He was outraged at the tone and words Merlin used to respond to his master. He should've apologized for his mistake and promised to do better, and then go and work twice as hard for the next several days to get back on the prince's good side.

But the boy was doing none of those things and that made Claude very angry. He'd grown up having a very strict uncle who was harder than necessary on the lad and as a result the boy had grown up to be rather jerk-headed, even though deep down he had a good heart.

Arthur looked equally outraged, though anyone who knew him would realize that the anger was fake, at his servant's attitude. "My hunting skills are perfect I'll have you know, Merlin, but how can even I be expected to kill anything with you bumbling around and making such a racket? I should have you thrown in the stocks for interrupting the Crown Prince's hunt! Honestly, sometimes I think you ruin my hunts on purpose!"

At this Merlin looked slightly guilty, which only confirmed Arthur's suspicions as to why the boy's clumsiness made itself fully known whenever they were hunting. The idiot was sabotaging them.

Despite the fact that Arthur knew, or at least suspected the real reason behind all the noise he made on those trips, Merlin barely even had to think for a moment before coming up with another retort. "Then why do you keep bringing me with you? Is it perhaps because you secretly don't want to kill furry little animals any more than I do, or because you enjoy my company?"

Arthur sputtered slightly for a moment. "I-of course not, Merlin, you are the most annoying person I have ever met, I certainly don't keep you around because I like it."

Merlin looked triumphant. "Then why haven't you sacked me yet? Permanently?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to look triumphant. "Because I like to know where you are at all times. I know the kind of trouble you can cause, Merlin, and I wouldn't dare unleash you on Camelot by sacking you. The people wouldn't stand a chance."

Merlin looked slightly lost for a retort for a moment, but soon he came up with something else. "Then why not just execute me? Mmmh? If I'm that much trouble?"

Arthur smiled. "Because, I've made it my policy not to execute idiots; no matter how bothersome they might be. After all, it's not their fault that they were born with brain damage."

"Well, if I'm brain damaged then you must have no brain at all, your Highness. I mean, have you heard yourself sometimes? I really have begun to wonder how you can still walk and talk if you're so stupid."

Arthur found that he was incapable of coming up with a suitable come-back so he just resorted to his old stand-by. "Merlin, shut up!"

"Oh and why should I, your Royal Prattiness?" Merlin was clearly enjoying his victory.

"Because, I mean, and it could just be me, but I think that the stocks look rather lonely. Maybe you should give them some company." Arthur smiled evilly.

Merlin scowled and said 'prat' one more time before clamping his mouth shut. Arthur merely continued to smile as the two of them made their way into the castle.

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><p>Claude had just stood, gawping, at as he had watched the scene unfold. He couldn't believe that servant! And not only was he a servant but he was the prince's servant. If anyone should be respectful it would be him!<p>

And even more unbelievable to the naïve young boy of eighteen was the fact that the Prince Regent had allowed him to get away with it. Claude was dumbfounded. His previous elation had long since worn off, only to be replaced with anger.

Even though he had a low status of his own the boy believed that he was still higher than a servant, and he also had a very foolish belief that many people shared, or had shared until Merlin came along, that strength meant Might. Meant that you could do anything to those weaker than you. That it was your right to do whatever you felt was necessary to them.

Arthur had once had the same belief, but it had been dispelled over time, starting with when a young boy had stood up to him in order to prevent him from further tormenting a servant.

And even though Arthur would still sometimes say that it was still his right to do whatever he wanted to those beneath him he rarely ever practiced it anymore. Too bad that the same can't be said for Claude. Claude, for all intents and purposes, is a bully, which isn't very good for Merlin.

And as Claude made his way, late, to his post he came to the conclusion that something had to be done about this servant 'Merlin' and his attitude. Claude had to do something about it; the boy needed to be taught a lesson.

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><p><em>Duh, Duh, Duh! I know! What will happen to Merlin? I will give you the answer to that eventually, I promise. But if you review then it will be that much sooner. (: The next chapters will hopefully be longer; this was just the beginning. I hope you all liked it and I really do plan on cutting down on the cheesiness, so don't worry. For my other fanfic readers I hope to get you the next chapter soon. Until next update remember...chocolate is one of the greatest things on this planet, unless you're allergic. <em>


	2. Learn From Them

_Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this, but it's not really my main story right now. I'm trying to focus on my other Merlin fic. However, I have gotten a bunch of reviews and alerts and even some favs so I thought it would only be fair to you guys to give you another chapter. So that is what I have done, obviously. Less cheese in this one, (sorry for those of you who like extreme silliness,) but we're getting closer to the heart of the story and I didn't think that it would be right if we're all laughing through it. The whump isn't in this chapter, but it should be coming very soon, so look out for that. Anyway, once again thank you to all of you who have already reviewed and generally liked this story so far, I hope I continue to meet your expectations. _

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><p>After Claude got off his shift he was invited to a sort of gathering with some of the other guards. Apparently they would all get together when their shifts ended for some gambling, drinking, and a discussion of anything interesting going on in the day. Guards could get very lonely.<p>

Claude made his way to a room that supposedly no one used that was in the dungeon. He only hoped that this wasn't going to turn out to be some sort of hazing.

He entered a dingy room that was lit only by a few torches and had about six or seven guards all sitting at a table playing some sort of game and drinking. Actually only a few of them were drinking, the rest were simply laughing like they were already drunk.

When they saw him the drunken ones cheered while a young man in his thirties gave him a friendly grin and gestured for him to come over.

"So you're the newbie?" he asked in a kind but rather amused voice.

"Yes, my name is Claude." Claude swore to himself that he wouldn't get intimidated by anything, especially not these men.

"My name is Michael, come and sit down, your feet have to be hurting; first day and all." He pointed to a stool next to him.

Claude sat down and eyed the other men. They were no longer drinking or laughing but were simply staring at him as if he was some unfathomable mystery.

"Oh, don't mind them," Michael said, "whenever we get someone new we try to guess why they're here. We get bored very easily. So, how was your first day?"

Claude frowned slightly; that was the problem. He believed that he would've had a very good day if it hadn't been for the thoughts that had plagued him. Normally he would be thought free for most of the day.

"It was good."

Michael chuckled slightly. "Yeah, you sound real convincing. What happened? Did you realize already that it wasn't the dream job you thought it would be? If so then you're fast; it took me nearly three weeks to come to that conclusion." Though he seemed pretty amused it was not in an unkind way. There wasn't a whole lot of it but he did have kindness in his tone.

"No, it's everything that I thought it would be. I just, I dunno, I was distracted." Claude tried to downplay it since he really wasn't sure if he wanted to voice his opinions about that _Merlin_ person to a bunch of people that obviously hadn't done anything about it.

Michael looked thoughtful. "What? Were you missing home? Don't worry, if you were we won't judge you for it, after all, it's hard _not_ to come up with a life that's better than that of a guard's."

_Again with the bashing of our job, if they don't like it then why are they here?_ "Nah, my home isn't anything to miss. I lived on a farm a good distance from Camelot, and definitely far away from anything interesting. I suppose…what bothered me was someone I saw. He wasn't very respectful."

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><p>Michael felt a feeling of dread creep up inside of him. He hoped that this new addition to their strange and dysfunctional "family" wasn't talking about <em>him.<em>

"Who was this someone? Just a random person you met on the street or…?" he asked warily.

Unfortunately, _he_ was _exactly_ who Claude was talking about. "I think it was the Prince Regent's manservant,_ Merlin,_ I think it was. He was talking back to the prince and everything. He even called him names! I can't believe that the prince just _lets him_ get away with it! The boy just needs to be shown his place."

Michael at first felt enraged, then horrified, then guilty, then understanding and calm. And now he was just glad that the others around the table were too drunk or distracted to have heard what the newbie had said.

"You—" he cleared his throat slightly uncomfortably—"said that you aren't from Camelot?" Claude nodded. "Well, then I take it you don't exactly know what has been going on the past, oh, five years?"

"Well, I know that there have been a lot of magical attacks and that the king is no longer fit to rule." At this he seemed to be afraid that he had said something wrong so he added, "I mean, why else would his son be in charge?"

Michael ignored that and focused the meaning of his lack of knowledge. "So you have no idea who Merlin is, do you?" He shook his head. "Um, okay," Michael leaned forward and looked into Claude's eyes, "there is a rule. An unspoken rule that quite possibly everyone in Camelot knows by now except Uther. And even he isn't entirely clueless to it. Since you haven't lived in Camelot in the past five years it's understandable that you haven't heard of it.

"Well, the rule is that you never, under any circumstances, if you wish to keep your head that is, mess with Merlin."

"What?" Claude asked incredulously. "Why? He's just a servant." _That_ the others heard.

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><p>Claude looked around the table at all of the men and suddenly seemed even more out of place. The two really drunk ones were glaring at him as if he had told them they could never drink ale again. The three more sober-looking ones who were of a bit slighter build seemed to be stunned at what he had said. And a man who sat right across from him had deep piercing green eyes and dark black shaggy hair. He also had a beard that was more black than white, he wore dark clothes and was easily the most terrifying man he had ever seen. This man just stared at him with no emotion on his face, but in his eyes, however; there was a menacing look that Claude couldn't quite understand.<p>

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and looked back at Michael. The man had a look of slight anger, but most of the emotion that could be seen was pity, and Claude couldn't understand why.

Michael turned around and gave his companions a pacifying glance and then went on with his explanation. "You see, saying something like that can get you into a lot of trouble here in Camelot these days. It would quite possibly be better for you if you told everyone you're a sorcerer rather than to threaten Merlin. Because he is _not_ just a servant, he may be many things but he is not just a _servant_.

"And that hasn't always been the case, well; I suppose Merlin was always more than a servant just nobody realized it. Back when he first came to Camelot a whole bunch of people thought the same as you, myself included." Claude gave him a curious glance but didn't interrupt him.

"One of the first things Merlin did was to stand up to Arthur who was bullying his current servant at the time. Apparently he had no idea that he was the prince and only thought that he was being mean. But even when he found out who he was that didn't deter him from standing up for someone who was too scared to stand up for himself. And the consequences of his courage got him thrown in the dungeons and put in the stocks," he laughed lightly. "Twice!

"Everyone thought that the two strong-willed boys hated each other. But then a sorceress disguised herself as a famous singer and tried to kill Arthur. A chandelier fell on her and she died but not before she managed to throw a knife at Prince Arthur's chest. To this day no one knows how he was able to move so fast, but we're only grateful that he did. Merlin pulled Arthur out of the way just in time to save his life.

"And as a result the king appointed Merlin as his son's new manservant; something that I think both boys hated the idea of at first, but now they wouldn't have it any other way." Michael sighed because he knew he was nearing the part of the tale that to this day he was still ashamed of.

"But despite Merlin's obvious courage and kindness there were some people who thought that they knew better. That for all of his rudeness he deserved to be punished and shown his proper place in the world. Me and some of the other people in this room," Michael gestured at a few of them, "took it upon ourselves to do just that.

"I think it was right after that event with Valiant; the knight who used magic to kill his opponents and probably would've killed Arthur if it hadn't been for Merlin, that we decided to act on our collective foolishness.

"Even though Merlin had done nothing other than shoot a few insults at Arthur and arrive late for his duties we believed that he should be punished, never mind that he had saved the prince's life without even asking to be thanked. And I can tell you," he looked straight into Claude's eyes, all of the kindness and amusement gone; replaced only by a deep-seeded seriousness. "That there has not been a day since that I haven't regretted what we did."

"And what did you do?" Claude asked; totally mesmerized by the truth of the tale.

A look of pain flashed in Michael's, and several others', eyes at this. Michael responded a bit sadly, "We taught him a lesson."

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><p><em>Well, as you may have guessed most of this story is going to take place in the past, even though it begins sometime around season four. I hope you liked this chapter and please continue reviewing, love you all...<em>


	3. Charisma

_I know I sorta said that I'd be getting this to you guys sooner but I have a really good excuse. I've become obsessed with the new series of books, well, new for me anyway. And since I have like another 11 books left to read in this series I think that my updating on any stories will be less frequent for some time. But that doesn't mean that I say no to bribes, really, if you just give me a bunch of wonderful and glittering reviews then I might just update faster then a week from now. No promises, though. _

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><p><em>A little less than five years ago<em>

"Prat," Michael heard that Merlin fellow call the prince. It wasn't uncommon, which just made it that much worse. It didn't seem to matter to the boy how many times the prince threatened to throw him in the stocks, he would still be as insolent as ever.

Though he didn't get quite as angry about the boy's rudeness as the other guards did he found that lately it was getting harder and harder to put up with it. It seemed that every day he would overhear some sort of insult or disrespect coming from him and it was starting to make his blood boil.

As he made his way to the usual gatherings of "the guards who had far too much boring, free time on their hands," he overheard some of them arguing. Apparently the verbal, and occasionally physical, sparring seemed to have begun without him. Which usually only meant one thing; someone had a black eye and no progress had been made in any of their "discussions." Unless, of course, Hemlock was leading it.

And as he opened the door he saw that he was perfectly right. Again. George, a man who was a bit fat and had a penchant for drinking, (much like his half-brother who was always with him,) had a black eye and was yelling at Hemlock. Though Michael could tell that he wouldn't be talking for very long, Hemlock looked like he'd just had an idea.

Hemlock was a rather scary man. Almost anyone who had even glanced at him would testify to that. His emerald green eyes, which were partially hidden underneath his bushy black eyebrows, seemed to be able to see into a person's very soul. Of course, Michael wasn't really afraid of him. Just as Hemlock had a talent for uniting people in a common goal, so also did Michael have a talent for calming people down.

His mother had always told him that he had powerful influence on people. That he had the ability to see reason and, perhaps more importantly, could help others to see it too. He tried to look at all sides of a situation; to find the truth and then make his decisions based on that. And people had a hard time shutting his voice out, in fact, most of the time he was the only person keeping the rest of the guards from killing each other when they argued or were simply drunk.

So he had to admit that he was a bit exasperated that they hadn't waited for him before getting into any of their less-than-intellectual debates. Someone always got hurt when these half men half animals got together without him.

Though these days he had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't seeing things as clearly as he should, that he wasn't the voice of reason very much anymore. He believed that this feeling had started creeping up on him when he had become a guard and had begun spending his time around the snobs of the castle and the animals that gathered in the dungeons.

But despite the voice in his head telling him that he wasn't thinking reasonably anymore, he refused to change; he pushed the voice to the back of his mind and ignored it. It really is a shame that he would only realize the repercussions of his mistake far too late.

"It just keeps getting worse and worse!" Michael heard Hemlock say. "When will someone put a stop to it? When he insults Prince Arthur, when he doesn't follow his orders or does them poorly he is not just disrespecting the prince, but he is also making fun of all that Camelot stands for! He thinks he is above our rules and social laws! He thinks he is better than them, than us! Him! A puny, pathetic excuse for a man thinks that he is above all others and therefore doesn't need to show respect!"

At this Michael stepped in. "You're right, Hemlock, he doesn't have a whole lot of respect. But you have to remember that he wasn't born here in Camelot; he might not understand our rules and ways of doing things yet." Ever the peacekeeper. "After all, that may be all it is; some social misunderstanding, but here you are making him sound like some sort of rebel or criminal. All he is guilty of is being rude, which, unfortunately isn't a crime. You're right is saying that he doesn't have respect for Camelot, but have you ever stopped to think that maybe Camelot hasn't earned it? He's only been here for a few months; it's only natural that he wouldn't feel at home yet."

Michael walked over to Hemlock, being sure to glance at each man in the room along the way. Apparently his gaze had the ability to calm people down as well. Though, in this case, Michael suspected that his glance was more putting them to shame.

After he had looked at them all he came to a stop in front of Hemlock and finally looked at him. "He's one boy, what can he do? His annoying tongue is his only weapon, and, as much as I know you all want to, we shouldn't cut it out just for that."

Hemlock seemed to be sizing him up. The two of them only ever fought when they had different opinions, but they didn't normally have anything against the other. In fact, Michael believed that the dark man had a sort of grudging respect for him, which was the only kind of respect he ever had. They both had the ability to lead, just in different ways. Michael always took the peaceful and compassionate approach; he could get even a cruel person to help someone in need.

Hemlock, on the other hand, always tried to rile people up, unite them through rage and passion. Michael often had to calm some of the guards down after another one of Hemlock's speeches.

The foreboding man gave him a slight and nearly imperceptible nod of his head, as if to say "it's on."

He turned to the men that he had had enthralled by his words only a few minutes ago. "I never said anything about cutting out his tongue or debilitating him for life. No, I think that the only scars of what we do to him will be in his mind.

"Let me ask you," he looked around at the men, his tone changing to that of a teacher, "some of you have children. And we have all been a child at some point in our lives. Well, let me ask you…has any of you had a child that you told to never get too near fire, but insists on doing so anyway? But when the child pays for his mistake by touching the scorching flame he never does so again. He learns.

"Or what if your son or daughter called you "prat" and disobeyed you? What if, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get that child to show you some respect, to behave." Michael could tell that the men were getting angry again, and, unfortunately he was having trouble not following suit.

"Sometimes you have to punish that child, even though you don't want to, in order to get him to show you respect.

"And it's not just about showing you respect either, it's also about preparing them for life. Your child will never have any friends if he insults them like that. And annoying tongue, even if that's all it is, can cause damage, and trouble.

"So though you wouldn't want to harm your child you would do it to share him or her from further pain. There are some who would love to hurt anyone they can, and if someone comes along and insults them then that just makes them more of a target.

"And what of Uther? If he should find out about Merlin's disrespect and impudence what do you think would happen to him? He might get beheaded. So by teaching him a lesson, by showing him where he belongs, what is appropriate of him, we may end up saving his life. All he needs is to be shown the way. Sometimes that's all it takes, he merely needs to see what happens when he's disobedient once, and then he will never make the mistake again. By giving him a few bruises we can save him from much worse."

Hemlock stared pointedly at Michael. "Isn't that what you're always telling us to do? If we can save his life, prevent great pain, then isn't it our obligation to do so? Would you disagree with me and quite possibly end his life?" He smirked; he knew that he had made an argument that was next to impossible to counter effectively.

Michael stuttered. For the life of him he couldn't think of much of an objection to what he was saying. Normally it was _him_ who won the arguments, not Hemlock. But Merlin had been so annoying and disrespectful. He really _did_ need to be shown his place. Should they really allow him to continue like this? Especially with the threat of Uther's temper?

The part of him that knew what was wrong with all of this still protested, though. Just not enough. Michael merely said, "I understand what you are saying, Hemlock, but I don't believe that it is time for such action yet. Perhaps the prince is right now taking care of it. Besides, who are we to act like the servant's parents? Give him time."

"Time? Time when any moment he could get killed or at least gravely injured for his insolence? If he doesn't deserve our ways of teaching then surely he doesn't deserve Uther's?" Michael couldn't think of anything to say.

Seeing this Hemlock sighed. "We all know that you have a kind and noble heart, Michael, so how about we grant you this: we promise not to take any action this night or by ourselves. Let's sleep on it, we shall be able to think and see things far more clearly after some rest." All of the men nodded.

Michael simply sighed and left; he wasn't sure what he thought.

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><p>That night Michael had a dream, most of which he couldn't remember the next morning.<p>

His dead mother was standing in a field. He ran to her and suddenly he was a little boy again.

"_My son," _she said as she put her arms around him, _"You have a wonderful power of persuasion, but be careful for you're not the only one who possesses it. Be wary of those who would love to make you see their way of thinking. If you ever forget what you think or believe, then simply remember who you are and the kindness within you. You know what's right and what's wrong, never lose hold of that. You have the power to make people see the way you see things, never abuse it or underestimate it."_ It was something she had said to him as a boy.

Then he saw an image of Merlin beaten, bloody and broken.

He saw many more things in his dream, but none of them he would ever remember clearly. And as it was the only thing he could recall when he woke up was that image of a bleeding servant. And that picture filled him with dread and disgust, which he would soon forget as well.

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><p>He was on his way to his post with Hemlock, Gerald, and Tymund when they all heard something that made them abandon their reason. Merlin.<p>

"I just don't see why you can't take it off yourself? We both have hands so I can't see why you don't use them. If you simply helped me take your armor off then it would go twice as quick."

Arthur rounded a corner with Merlin a step or two behind but quickly catching up, which in itself was impressive since he was carrying his weight in Arthur's armor.

"_Mer_lin!" the prince said, sounding quite indignant. But the boy continued on as if he hadn't heard.

"And you could also help me carry some of this stuff; after all, it is _your_ armor. What kind of king are you going to make if you can't even carry of few of your own things?" Little did Merlin know that it was those words that pushed the men who were hearing this over the edge.

Arthur didn't even seem to notice the guards or how they looked ready to pounce. He spun around to face Merlin, nearly knocking him over in the process. "_Merlin_! That's what _you_ are here for! I have enough duties being a prince as it is, and when I become king they are going to be even greater. I have you so that I can focus of the more important things, like, oh say, protecting this kingdom and the people in it! If I spent all my time doing trivial and menial tasks like carrying and polishing armor then I would neither have the time or the energy to complete the rest of my abilities.

"Now, I have another dinner, apparently some nobles are visiting in order to pay their tribute to my father and—"

Merlin interrupted him, something that nearly ended his life right there. "I don't see why you have to attend all those horrible dinners, those nobles are usually bigger prats then even you can be."

Arthur glared at Merlin but secretly shared his opinions about the lords he was going to be dining with. When he was sure that the boy was done he resumed where he had left off.

"Like I was saying, I need to have a bath before then so, after you drop off my armor at the armory of course, I want you to come and prepare one for me. You can polish it later." He began to turn away but then stopped himself. "Oh, and since you hate the dinners so much then you don't have to go. Instead you can clean my armor and muck out the stables, I'm sure you'd prefer the horses' company."

Merlin looked like he was going to respond to that but Arthur walked away before he had a chance. The boy huffed.

Once again if anyone had been playing close attention they would have noticed that though some of the exasperation was real, none of the anger was. Even the annoyance was partially fake.

Unfortunately for Merlin, none of the guards who had seen this had noticed the smiles that had been playing at the corners on the mouths of both boys throughout the entire "argument."

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><p>As Merlin turned to dump his load in the armory he saw the four furious faces glaring murderously at him.<p>

_Uh oh,_ he thought as the guards came at him with a blood-lust in their eyes.

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><p><em>I'm almost entirely and completely possitive that the whump will come next chapter. Please review? *gives puppy dog eyes*<em>


	4. Pain

_Okay, so I have already gotten something like 15 reviews and it hasn't even been 24 hours since the last update, so I thought that I would reward you all with another chapter. This one is fairly short BUT it DOES have WHUMP! I hope you all likey. Thank you to everyone who reviewed because I probably would have updated in like four days or something, so thank you for the encouragement. Keep it up and I might do another quick update. _

_Warning: Violence but nothing too graphic. _

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><p>Merlin was more than a little bit stunned and terrified when he saw the four big men rush towards him. He wasn't an idiot like some people believed, he had known for a while now that many of the castle guards were less than friendly when it came to him. He assumed that it was because of the way he treated Arthur, of how he wasn't a bootlicker. Considering the conversation that they had just overheard, Merlin thought it was a pretty safe bet that that was the reason.<p>

But Merlin wasn't really concentrating on why they were doing this. All thought left him when it felt like all the air he'd ever had was driven out of him. In surprise and physical shock he dropped all of the armor he was carrying and fell to the floor. The pain that had mercifully decided to wait for a few moments finally surfaced and his stomach felt like it exploded in pain.

This wasn't the first time he'd been punched, no not at all. But this was quite possibly the hardest and most painful.

Merlin didn't even have a chance to draw much breath into his already aching lungs before the angry men above grabbed him by the back of his coat and pulled him up. He looked blurrily into the face of a man he recognized, Hemlock.

"This is so you never forget your place. You're a servant, nothing more." Another painful punch landed in the same place as the previous one, making the whole of Merlin's torso seem to blossom in agonizing pain.

Merlin realized that he should probably struggle and try to get away from this man, but before he could so much as twitch a muscle the other three men descended on him.

The man he recognized as Gerald targeted anything he could, with feet and fists according to availability. The one named Tymund focused on hitting his face as hard as he could. And the one he knew to be Michael held him against the wall and delivered a few punches of his own, though, they weren't as painful as the others. And hemlock devoted all his strength to his abdomen.

Each hit or punch that landed felt like it tore the breath from him. It felt like he was being buried by a hundred falling stones. He felt acutely aware of all the damage that the punches were causing. The first one had hurt something fierce, but now, not long after they had all joined in; Merlin couldn't even tell where he was being attacked from. The pain was everywhere. If he had the air to scream he would.

The fists and feet rained down on him and Merlin tried to curl up in a tight ball to protect himself but couldn't because of the hands pinning his arms. Another punch to his face and his head whipped to the side and hit the wall making both sides of his face sear in agony. He was faintly aware of the tiny whimpers that were coming from him, and of the horrible warm wetness that he could feel in several different places on his body.

He couldn't see anything. Excruciating pain was engulfing his entire being. And every hit or kick seemed to be twice as painful as the previous one. Merlin wanted desperately to scream, in the hopes that that would make the pain go away, and soon he got his wish.

As Hemlock delivered a particularly strong punch to an area that was already greatly damaged, a sickening sound wrenched the air. It was the sound of a bone breaking.

Merlin would forever wonder how it was possible to scream with next to no air in his lungs. But scream he did as the pain that overshadowed anything he had ever felt before blossomed from his chest. It felt as if liquid fire was boiling his blood and pure agony was consuming him.

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><p>The guards, meanwhile, had stopped when they had heard the horrific scream come from the boy they had been beating. They all seemed to stumble back as they began to realize what had just happened. Merlin curled in on himself and didn't seem aware or even mostly conscious. The four guards stared in shock at the bloody mess that they had reduced the boy to.<p>

Michael, as he looked at Merlin, remembered his dream once again and realized that image of the servant lying broken and bleeding was almost identical to the real thing. Only this was worse.

They were dimly aware of the sounds of someone running towards them, but not one of them had to turn and look to see who it was.

"_What have you done?"_

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><p><em>There you go. I shall have bromance in the next chapter so don't worry. Review and make my day?<em>


	5. Of Arthur And His Confusion With Merlin

_You all have been so amazing and have reviewed so much so I've decided to give you yet another chapter today. Plus, this was pretty fun to write. _

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><p>Arthur had been walking quite prattishly—as Merlin would call it—back to his chambers when a servant had stopped him with a message from his father. It was just a reminder about some sort of procedure at the dinner that night. Arthur had listened and then tried to get on his way when his mind finally registered a sound it had picked up a few moments ago. The sound of falling armor.<p>

It wasn't that unusual for Merlin to drop things, especially when he was expected to walk and carry them at the same time. Apparently the boy couldn't multitask. But for some reason Arthur felt uneasy, he wondered if maybe it was because it really wouldn't hurt him to carry a few things.

Despite his constant complaints about Merlin he was occasionally impressed with his abilities to do things quickly. Sometimes he would often give the boy a ridiculously heavy load of chores just to see if he'd fail. But the servant never did. And, of course, he'd always feel guilty afterwards when he would see the bags under Merlin's eyes from working too late.

But that really was a lot of armor for anyone to carry on their own, not to mention for a boy of his size and strength. Arthur knew that he could help out at least a little bit, but pride and his previous experience with servants made it hard for him. Plus, he just liked to give Merlin a hard time.

But Merlin was right and he really should help him out sometimes, it's not like it could really hurt.

Arthur had spent a couple of moments dithering about whether or not he should lend a hand when he finally realized that Merlin would probably be half way to the armory by now. And so once again as he was about to turn around he heard a sound that, though he'd never heard it before, he knew had to have come from Merlin.

He spun around and headed in a dead run towards the sound. The scream had been long and drawn out, but then had stopped abruptly as if its owner had run out of air. Arthur raced down the corridors, praying all the while that it had not been Merlin's scream and that it hadn't been full of the pain that he had heard.

As he turned a sharp corner he came to a complete stop when he saw a scene that was more horrific than any bloody fight he had ever been in. Merlin was curled up on the ground and was whimpering slightly, shaking uncontrollably, and breathing heavily. In small puddles all around him blood was pooling slowly, and his clothes were covered with it. For the moment Arthur couldn't really see anything of his skin and was grateful for it. He didn't know if he could handle what he might see.

Standing a few feet away from Merlin were four guards, the same four guards Arthur faintly remembered passing just a few minutes ago. They all had horrified and shocked looks on their faces. Arthur would almost have thought that they had just arrived on this scene like him and were stunned, but one look at their bloody clothes and fists and he knew that that wasn't the case.

"What have you done?" Arthur yelled, his voice nearly breaking a couple of times. He looked from them to Merlin and back again. He rushed forward and knelt beside Merlin and put a hand on his back, intending to roll him over slightly to see the damage.

But as he felt his friend's harsh and ragged breathing and knew that only one kind of injury could cause that he stopped himself. He turned to glare up angrily at the men and said with a lot more venom in his voice this time, "What have you _done?"_

The men still seemed too shocked to respond so Arthur decided not to waste his time on them right now. He carefully rolled Merlin over so he could see how bad it was, mindful the entire time of the one or more broken ribs he must be sporting.

He gasped at what he saw. Merlin's face was covered in bruises and blood, as was the rest of him. His shirt and his coat were soaked in it. What little of his skin that wasn't tinged red was pasty and pale. His eyes were fluttering, but he barely seemed conscious. Conscious enough, though, to cringe when Arthur turned him around, in a way that made the prince think that he was expecting another attack. The action seemed to hurt his ribs, though, and he groaned.

Arthur knew that he had no way of knowing for sure how bad Merlin's injuries were with all the blood covering him, not to mention the fact that he was hardly a physician. He had to get him to Gaius.

He slowly, and with as much gentleness he could muster, lifted Merlin into his arms and stood up. Once again the boy groaned but Arthur hoped, and prayed, that he was still too out of it to feel much.

He looked at the men that had did this, who all seemed to be slowly coming back to their senses, and spoke quickly and harshly, knowing that he had to hurry with Merlin.

"You four will wait here until I come back. You are not to leave or run away. Once Merlin is taken care of I'll deal with all of you. And you had better pray as hard as you can that he is not to badly damaged or you will all wish you had never been born." With one last fiery glare that could melt through solid rock Arthur turned and walked as quickly as he could to Gaius' chambers, careful the entire time of Merlin's injuries.

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><p>Arthur rushed Merlin into Gaius' room without knocking, calling as he did so for the wise physician. Gaius was at a table mixing some sort of potion, but quickly turned around when he heard his name. He gasped much like Arthur did when he saw the state his ward was in.<p>

"What happened?" he asked, rapidly closing the space between him and Arthur.

"He was attacked by some guards. He's already lost a lot of blood and has at least one broken rib," the prince explained in a rush.

"Lie him down on the bed," the physician said, gesturing to the cot reserved for patients, as he bustled to a cabinet and began gathering supplies. He returned a moment later and gave his charge a visual once over.

"I need you to help me take his coat and shirt off so I can see what needs to be done." Arthur held Merlin up and the old man proceeded to rid him of his bloody and sticky clothes. Both men gasped again when they saw what was underneath.

There seemed not to be a single inch of him that wasn't covered in bruises and places where brute force had broken the skin. And even through the blood they could both make out the horrible, deep bruising on his left side, no doubt where the broken ribs were.

Gaius recovered faster than Arthur and began cleaning all the blood off him so that he could get to the wounds. Merlin seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness and was mumbling slightly.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Arthur asked, not realizing how pleading his voice sounded because of how desperate he was to help his friend.

Without looking up from his task Gaius said, "I need more clean water."

Arthur nodded and quickly picked up a bucket, not even noticing the absence of his usually present pride. But just before he left the room, however, he heard his name being faintly called.

"Ar…thur? Please d..on't be an..gry with the-em." Arthur stared stunned at the nearly unconscious boy who had just read his mind. For he had just been thinking about what he would do to the bastards that had did this when Merlin had spoken.

For a long moment Arthur just stood still, then left.

The entire time he was getting the water Arthur thought about that strange request. Merlin had just been beaten half to death and had asked that Arthur not be angry with them, which was basically the same as asking him not to hurt them. And the prince couldn't understand it.

If he had just been beaten to a pulp he would be furious with the ones who did it, and would want to get at least some small measure of revenge. But not Merlin.

Of course, it was also possible that Merlin was simply delirious and had no idea what he was saying. But somehow Arthur didn't think so, _that_ was just Merlin.

When he returned Gaius had removed the boy's pants as well, though he had a thin blanket covering him. And Arthur wanted to run away and puke when he saw that the damage was hardly less severe on his legs. _Did they leave any bit of him alone?_

The prince set the water down and knelt next to Merlin's cot.

"I've given him a painkiller which will also allow him to sleep," Gaius said, "Most of it is just bruises, though; I believe he has two broken ribs. But I don't think he's in much danger since I've bandaged his ribs and most else is superficial." He gave Arthur a smile. "He's going to be fine, sire." Arthur heaved a great sigh of relief.

"Thank you for bringing him to me as quickly as you did. I no longer need your help and I believe you have a dinner to get ready for, sire."

Arthur didn't want to leave Merlin but he knew Gaius was right. But before he got ready he had a few guards to deal with.

So Arthur left and made his way back to where he had last seen the condemned men. He turned a corner and saw that all four of them were leaning against a wall and were looking decidedly uncomfortable and ashamed. _Good,_ he thought.

"You four," he barked at the men, "come with me."

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><p><em>It seems that I am very susceptable to bribery. I have another Merlin fic that I've been working on for a while now and I really want to finish it soon. But I've deccided to give you all a bit of a say in which one I write. If I get more wonderful reviews for this then the chances are that I will spend more of my time of this one then on the other, and, of course, the other way around. If I get more reviews for "Hidden Knowledge" then I'll update that more. So, it's up to you all how many reviews you are willing to give me as bribery. <em>


	6. The Pendragon's Fury

_Wow! A hundred reviews already, this is really surreal. Thank you all for this so much, and maybe you should that yourselves as well because you're the reason I'm updating right now. That and the fact that **MERLIN** starts airing tomorrow and I really wanted to get something up in time for that. *sniffs* But that also means that **Doctor Who** is ending for now and we won't see it again for a while. I'm so torn, I love Doctor Who but I've really been looking forward to Merlin. I don't know if I want tomorrow to come or not. Yes, I'm a geek, that's pratically a given for anyone on this site. Or is it nerd? I never know which one is which._

_Anywho, enough rambling, go read._

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><p>Michael was more than a little scared when he saw the death glare on the prince's face. But at the same time he felt like he deserved it. He knew that he really didn't have an excuse for what he had just done. He could say that he had had a bad day, or that his rage had overcome him. He could even say that Merlin had been all but asking for it. But Michael knew better.<p>

He had just helped three other big men beat a defenseless boy into unconsciousness. There had been no logical reason, and what they had done was not justice or any form of teaching. They had hurt an innocent person. And so Michael knew that whatever the prince did to punish them was more than justified.

That didn't mean that he still wasn't scared, though.

The four men followed Arthur down several corridors and finally stopped at his chambers. The seething prince opened his door and gestured that they should enter. Once they were all in the prince shut his door firmly behind him and then went to stand in front of the foot of his bed.

The future king was practically fuming. All his muscles were tensed and he looked like he was trying to restrain himself from killing them. His jaw was clenched so tight that Michael wondered if he could even speak that way.

After a few moments the prince relaxed some and said to them in a terrifyingly calm tone, "I'm going to ask you only once. Why did you beat my manservant senseless?" His voice was so quiet that Michael couldn't restrain the shiver that went down his spine.

Michael honestly didn't think he could tell the prince if he wanted to, he was far too frightened. He truly didn't want to die today. But thankfully Hemlock seemed to be the bravest one there and answered the prince.

"Sire, he was being far too disrespectful. We heard how he was talking to you. No one should be allowed to do that, especially not a servant. We believed that if we taught him a lesson then he would know better than to treat you that way again." Hemlock was using his appeasing voice but one look at Arthur and anyone could tell that it wasn't working.

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><p>Arthur's features briefly contorted into the fiery rage that it had been before, but then quickly returned to its mask of calmness. Only in his eyes could one see the fury burning there. "So, you believed that my servant was being disobedient and disrespectful to me and that he deserved to be punished? You believed that you were doing me a favor by teaching him? If, as you say, Merlin was being less than the perfect bootlicking servant that you think he should be, then why wouldn't I have taken care of it myself?" The anger was slowly seeping back into his tone.<p>

"I am the prince, the future king; don't you think that I am more than capable of dealing with my own servant? You took it upon yourselves to relieve me of this burden, but have you ever stopped to think that maybe what would be a burden to you isn't necessarily one to me?

"If I wasn't happy with Merlin's service or attitude towards me I could've put him in the stocks. Or flogged him. Or maybe turned him over to you so that you can punish him. Or, if he was really horrible, I could have just fired him." Arthur inwardly cringed at the idea of doing anything to Merlin.

"But I have done none of those things. But still you, all of you, believed that you knew better what I want and need for a servant. So you decided to teach Merlin a lesson."

The anger was now more than evident in Arthur's and he knew it, but he didn't try to restrain it any longer. "No! That's not why you hurt him, you may think that and fool yourselves to justify it, but that's not why you did it.

"You did it because you can't stand the idea that someone like him would challenge your pathetic sense of power. You think that because he's small and can't defend himself that you can pick on him. But when he stands up for himself and doesn't cower in fright when he sees you or me, _you_ get angry. Angry because he just destroyed your illusion of power.

"If you were born with strength or size then you should use it to help others who aren't as strong as you, not beat them to death! And you had better leave Merlin alone from now on, just because he stands up for himself doesn't mean that he deserves that."

Arthur looked like he was about to dismiss them when Hemlock opened his big mouth again. "I don't see why you're defending him; he's just a servant."

What happened next was done so quickly that the guards barely managed to comprehend it. Arthur blinked at the guard and then drew his arm back and let it fly. Hemlock was knocked to the ground with the force of it, or maybe just the unexpectedness of it.

Arthur towered over Hemlock. His voice was pure rage and his eyes seemed to burn with a fiery hatred. The fierce expression on his face was enough to make any man scared for his life, even Hemlock. "Merlin is anything but 'just a servant.'

"When I first met him I was a bully, just like you. I had him put in the stocks several times and he still saved my life. Merlin doesn't let me get away with being a bully; if I'm being mean to someone he calls me on it. He doesn't like to see anyone get hurt."

The prince stepped down hard on Hemlock's forearm and held his foot there. His voice was almost like a growl. "Merlin is a thousand times the man you or I could ever hope to be. Do you want to know why? Because if you had done that to me I would have made sure that you paid dearly for it.

"But Merlin, after you had beaten him to the brink of unconsciousness, through all the pain and fear that all of you caused, asked me for something. Barely even awake, Merlin asked me _not_ to hurt you. Any of you." Arthur looked around the room at the stunned guards.

"I could _never_ be that forgiving. For what you have done to him I would love to see you all get beheaded, but I won't do that. Merlin asked me to leave you alone, so I will. That is just how much Merlin hates to see people in pain. He doesn't even like hunting because of the death. And it would destroy him to know that I killed you all because of him.

"Congratulations, you just half beat to death one of the most innocent and caring souls alive. You think that you're better than Merlin, that you're more powerful than him? Well, you're not. You're beneath him."

Arthur stepped off of Hemlock and stared straight into the eyes of each guard in turn, saving the slowly getting up Hemlock for last. "I have only known Merlin for a few short months and already he has made me a better person. I owe him a lot more than just my life. Though I've never told him, I don't think there is a better servant in the entire world. So listen carefully."

His voice took on an icy quality. "I swear to you, all of you. If you _ever_ hurt Merlin again, if you even so much as glare in his direction, I will kill you, and it won't be as quick and painless as a beheading. I am leaving you alone because Merlin asked me too, but if you touch him again I _swear_ to you that not even his kindness will be able to save you.

"So, if you value your lives then you will steer clear of my manservant. Next time he insults anyone leave it to me to decide whether or not that simple act outweighs all the good he has done.

"And since Merlin is otherwise preoccupied recovering from his multiple injuries I guess the four of you will have to take his usual place in the stocks."

And with that Arthur turned his back to them, gesturing as he did so that they were to leave. And it wasn't until he heard the door to his room close again that he let out the long and exhausted breath.

He smiled faintly at the idea of Merlin in the stocks. Of course, since he had sacked Merlin and then discovered that he had no legitimate reason for doing so he had tried to keep his visits to a minimum. And then when he had gotten a glimpse one time of some bruises on the boy's shoulders and had found out that they were from having potatoes thrown quite hard at him, he had decided that the stocks were only to be used as a threat from then on.

But the idea of those cruel bastards getting some of those same bruises made Arthur feel a little better. He knew he still had to get ready for the dinner, which in his anger he had almost forgotten about, but he wanted to check on Merlin one more time. However, it wouldn't be a very good idea to be fuming with hatred when he got there, so the prince tried to calm himself down before he left to return to the physician's chambers once more.

It wasn't easy. He had gotten so close a couple of times to running the men though with his sword. The entire time he was talking to them he kept on seeing Merlin's bruised and mottled skin and how bad he had looked. It wasn't even until he had started ranting that he had realized exactly how much it hurt to see the boy that way.

He had been right, Merlin _had_ changed him and he certainly meant more to him than the prince had ever guessed. Arthur was slightly uncomfortable with his new knowledge about his "relationship" with the boy, but if admitting it—if only to himself—meant keeping Merlin safe then it was worth it.

He really didn't think that the injured servant would be awake yet; Gaius _had_ said that he had given him something, so that was why he was surprised when he looked into a set of familiar eyes.

"_Merlin_! You're awake."

"I'm glad your eyes work, Arthur."

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><p><em>So, at first I really liked this chapter, but now I'm not so sure. Please review and tell me if you love it or not. And I'm sorry to anyone who was hoping for the guards to get a greater punishment, I don't want Arthur to get too carried away with revenge. But be grateful, originally I planned on only having them get yelled at. Besides, I don't love them nearly enough to whump them. <em>


	7. What Is Real Respect?

_I'm so very sorry that it has been so long since an update. You've all been so wonderful and I feel like I've let you down. But the truth is that the first two drafts I wrote of this sucked beyond belief. Plus, I've gotten sick and been in weird writing moods, and I've been focusing on my other story more because I'm so close to being done. Anyway, I feel like this is a remotely acceptable chapter so I think I can give it to you. I don't know why this has been so hard to write. _

_Now, __you should know that this is the last chapter of this story. Originally I planned on writing one more chappy, but I just ended up conbining the two because there was no place to seperate. Enjoy and don't forget to review!_

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><p>Arthur scowled. Merlin had finally returned to work after being gone for nearly a month. Gaius said that that was how long it took to heal broken bones. Arthur was just glad that he no longer had to put up with the bootlicking servant who had taken over for Merlin in the boy's absence. The prince never thought that anyone could be more annoying than Merlin. Well, he was wrong, someone who said 'yes, Prince Arthur' fifty times in one day and who bowed every two minutes is far more annoying than Merlin could ever be. He would take Merlin's stubbornness over the other servant's spinelessness any day.<p>

He smiled as he thought about that. He had gone to check up on Merlin one more time before the feast, expecting him to be unconscious, but instead the boy and been awake and trading insults. Though, Arthur hadn't missed the look of pain and a haziness, (the latter caused by Gaius' drugs,) in the boy's eyes.

When he had asked Gaius why he was awake the old man had said that when he'd given him the sleeping potion he hadn't accounted for stubbornness. Arthur had laughed at that while Merlin pouted slightly. The prince had to agree with the physician there: Merlin's stubbornness could rival that of even Uther's.

Through the boy's convalescence Arthur had visited him as often as he could without looking like he cared, and even then the prince had the feeling that Merlin saw right through him. But now that he was back to work—though Gaius had stressed that it was to be 'light' work—Merlin had mentioned for the first time something that Arthur could only assume was a suicidal wish. Merlin wanted to go and see the guards that had beaten him.

Needless to say Arthur had completely refused to let him do anything of the sort. Without allowing him to get so much as a word in Arthur had ranted that he wasn't to so much as look at the men under any circumstances. He ordered him to stay away from them. He had then told him to get his newly-washed clothes, dismissing the topic entirely.

In retrospect it may have not been a very wise thing to do, seeing as how Merlin never seemed to obey any orders out of a rebellious principle. Still, Merlin just couldn't search out people who would like nothing better than to beat him to a pulp.

Though, Arthur had to admit that he was a bit curious as to why even someone with Merlin's forgiving nature would want to do something so obviously foolish.

Shaking his head, Arthur realized that he had been staring at the reports he should be working on instead of wondering about an idiotic servant. The prince inwardly chastised himself for wasting his time on useless thoughts. He went back to his work.

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><p>Michael sighed. It had been like this for three weeks now and nothing had changed. If anything, things were getting worse. He had never wanted to yell so much in his life, but didn't because he no longer felt like he deserved the position of diplomat. Especially when considering what all these desperately bored men were arguing about.<p>

Every night all the guards who were off duty would gather together under the pretense of gambling and drinking away their boredom. But it was usually only a few minutes into the current game of dice that someone would bring the subject up and the fighting would start again.

Ever since they had learned about Michael's and the other three guards' impromptu beating of the servant Merlin they had all been arguing about it. Some, like George who Michael remembered had stood up for the boy, said what they had done was wrong and they were lucky not to get a far worse punishment then some time in the stocks.

Others said that Merlin had gotten just what he deserved and that, in the long run, what they had done was a good thing. They even seemed convinced that Prince Arthur himself would one day thank them for their service in subduing a cocky servant.

Some would even go as far as to say that they hadn't hurt the boy enough and that should have done something that left an eternal scar or mark on him. Michael never could help the shudders of revulsion that ran through him when he heard some of the ideas like 'branding' and 'flogging' and 'cutting off fingers.'

And still others would just yell and say ridiculous things just for the sake of saying something. These were the people who had no real opinion but didn't want that to get in the way of their fun.

Michael was just getting sick of it. He looked over to where Tymund normally sat and was surprised to see him there. Like him, the guard seemed to have realized that these gatherings were becoming increasingly pointless since everyone said exactly the same things and no one ever acted on their threats. Lately he had stopped coming to most of the nightly events.

And the man wouldn't look at anyone these days and when he did it was only to answer the short question that had been posed to him. He especially avoided looking at Michael.

Michael wondered why that was. Maybe it was just because he had been the most against the beating of any of them, and therefore the young man felt ashamed whenever he looked at him. Which, of course, was ridiculous since that hadn't stopped either of them from joining in the beating. Michael still felt horrible about what he had done and knew that if he could take it back he would in an instant.

Gerald had left the room the second the arguing had started the first time. No one had seen him among their gatherings since. But he had been seen in the street helping people and lifting heavy things for the old or weak. Michael vaguely wondered how long Gerald's self-imposed penance would last.

And then there was Hemlock. Hemlock still attended all of the nightly fights like him but refused to talk to anyone. If someone looked at him for too long or they asked him a question he would simply stare at them with a look of hate and anger until they ran away. Michael was curious how much of that hate and anger was directed towards himself, or if maybe he didn't blame himself at all and secretly harbored desires to hurt Merlin again. He had always been pretty good at reading Hemlock, but ever since Prince Arthur had punched him the scary man had remained silent for some unknown reason. He didn't know what to think of the quiet man.

Michael sighed again as another particularly loud shout rose up from the crowd of fighting men who would be better described as children. This had gone far enough, he decided.

Michael quickly rose to his feet and briskly walked through the throng of guards towards the table in the center of the room. He then jumped up on it and yelled at the top of his lungs, "SHUT UP!"

All the men in the room quieted out of shock, and perhaps fear. This was the first time anyone had heard Michael raise his voice. Normally he was known as the calm one. In the corner of his eye Michael noticed Hemlock stand up from where he had been reclining in a wooden chair and brooding.

His anger was alive now. For three weeks these men had done nothing but argue pointlessly. No more. No longer yelling, but still speaking loudly Michael continued. "Shut up all of you. You don't get to decide whether or not what we did was right. It happened, we did it. And I don't care if you think he deserved much worse because what we did was wrong. And if any of you are foolish enough to act upon your stupidity then Prince Arthur will have your head." He glared menacingly at all the men.

Then the anger left his voice and features. He sighed and rubbed a hand through his dark blond hair. "I know what I did, and I am ashamed of it. I know it was wrong yet I let my arrogance and anger get the best of me. We beat an innocent man; there should be no argument about the wrongness of that. If anyone thinks that that is okay then he shouldn't be in the business of protecting and guarding people."

That really got their attention. Guards liked to believe that they weren't only guarding valuable inanimate objects, but that they also protected the people of the palace. That idea gave them a sense of purpose.

"They are going to be no more fights or _discussions_ about this. I, for one, am going to go and apologize to Merlin tomorrow," Michael was surprised at his own words, not sure where they came from but realizing that they were right. "And I am officially declaring Merlin to be deserving of the respect of a prince. No one is going to talk about harming him. No one is going to protest when he insults Arthur. There will be no more debates. And if anyone tries to repeat our mistakes then he will have to go through me and Prince Arthur."

All the men in the room started yelling and clamoring at once. They all protested Michael's order. They didn't like having their prime topic for discussion taken away from them. And many were still angry at the manservant's impudence.

Suddenly Hemlock jumped up onto the table next to Michael and yelled, "Silence!" Quiet fell immediately once more. Michael had to admit that Hemlock was far more intimidating and his yell had sounded way cooler than his own.

"Michael is right. If you wish to talk of Merlin's disrespect then do it someplace else. But know this: if anyone hurts Merlin it will be over my dead body and the bodies of everyone else who cares about him. Michael called you idiots and he was right. The four of us were idiots to do what we did, and now you would all have to be the stupidest creatures on this earth to follow in our footsteps. We are men, not cruel and vicious animals. I suggest you learn the difference. I surely have."

The room was a deadly quiet. This was the first time Hemlock had spoken in weeks. No one in their right mind would ignore a threat made either by him or a Pendragon. And both were now protecting Merlin. As was Michael, who wasn't someone anyone would enjoy hurting.

Hemlock leapt down and held out his hand to Michael is a friendly gesture and the young man could almost have sworn that he could see a smile on the older man's lips. He grasped his hand and used it to jump down himself.

Hemlock lowered his voice a little, indicating that he was talking to Michael alone, and said, "Tomorrow I will join you in apologizing to Merlin. I'm sorry, I know I pushed you. I never should have incited any of this."

They walked through the exiting doors together and Michael felt a surprising realization come over him. Hemlock was feeling guilty; maybe that is why he had stayed silent. He had never thought of Hemlock as a bad or cruel person, but he had never expected him to be capable of showing the kind of humility as to say he was wrong. Maybe all it took was a single punch from a pissed off royal.

* * *

><p>Merlin was cleaning out Gaius' leech tank. Normally it was a job he despised, but right now he was just grateful that the old man had assigned it to him rather than tell him to relax and eat while slipping him a sedative. He had always thought that people helping you was a good sign, it meant that people cared, but now he was realizing that having Gaius care about you could be quite bothersome.<p>

Then again, the physician was probably just getting back at him for scaring him. Merlin wasn't entirely sure how being unconscious and bleeding had been his fault, but he could swear that Gaius treated it that way. Merlin had been getting so restless lately that he had felt like he was going to explode. And he had to admit that that had been the worse part of getting beaten up. Not the pain or the fear, but rather the boredom.

Merlin was startled out of his sulking thoughts by the sound of the door opening behind him. He turned around and saw four men enter and stand awkwardly near the door. He immediately recognized the men and was surprised at the lack of fear in himself. He felt a bit jumpy, but other than that he felt no terror at being near them.

"Ah," he said, smiling, "Do I have this right? Michael, Tymund, Gerald, and Hemlock? Is that correct?" he asked. When he had spoken their names he had nodded to each of them.

The men looked shocked. "How do you know our names?" the one he believed was Gerald asked.

Merlin gently smiled again. He had a feeling he knew why they were here. It was why he had wanted to see them. "Until given a reason I believe that everyone is a potential friend. And you can't be friends with someone whose name you don't know, can you?" he explained. The guards looked even more stunned.

Merlin took his hands out of the tank and washed them in a basin, drying them as he sat down at a table. "Please sit down." They shuffled forward and did as they were asked, the big one, Hemlock, choosing to sit on a nearby stool because there wasn't enough room for everyone.

Merlin had to admit that he felt a bit weird. He knew all that he wanted to say, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was some sort of teacher who was giving the men a lesson on the ways of the world. Or perhaps just his own ways.

"Um," Michael said and Merlin immediately thought that he seemed like the leader of the group since no one else seemed willing to talk. "How are you feeling?"

Merlin's mind flashed back to those moments in the hallway and the injuries that had been inflicted. He was well aware that some of the bruises had not yet left his face. He was just glad that he wore his jacket or long-sleeved shirts most of the time, because otherwise everyone would see the rest of them. He subconsciously moved his hand to protect his still-sensitive ribs. "I am healing, one of the benefits of living with a physician." He wasn't going to prompt them. He knew that they needed to say this themselves. Helping them with it would only make everything more awkward.

"So," the big one huffed, "I guess you know who we are?" Merlin nodded. "And you're not afraid?"

Merlin could detect a hint of admiration in his voice. This was obviously a man who valued bravery. Merlin decided that maybe a little prompt was needed, just of a different kind. He could say what he needed to say first. "No, just because you got angry at me doesn't mean that I no longer think of you all as potential friends. Arthur gets angry with me all the time. I have that effect on people." He smiled and a few of them looked like they wanted to.

"But Arthur had never hurt you like we did," Michael stated.

Merlin shook his head. "I can't say I'm glad that you beat me, but I think that there is already too much bitterness in this world. I don't need to add any more to it. Besides, I know why you did what you did. People make mistake so that they can learn from them, that's what they're for."

His tone changed slightly as he dredged up emotions that he had barely admitted to himself , let alone anyone else. "You thought I was being disrespectful and mocking to a prince. You would have a right to be offended if that was the case.

"But that's not what I was doing. Arthur may be a prat, but he is a good one and deserving of my respect. And I show it to him, but not in the way you think.

"The whole world sees Arthur as a prince and future king. People become his friends, not because they like him, but because they wish to gain something out of it. A lot of people who show him respect don't really mean it. None of Arthur's friends are real. Everyone treats him like a title, nothing more. But I treat him like a person. And that's what he needs. Someone who is not afraid to tell him what he thinks, someone who insults and jokes with him so that when Arthur does something _really _amazing he knows that the respect in genuine."

Merlin took a breath, bringing himself out of his speech. "At least that's what I believe. But Arthur hasn't killed me yet, so I think that means I'm right." He grinned.

There was silence for a long moment. Finally Michael said, "I'm sorry for what I did to you, it was wrong." And within seconds the rest of them had offered up their apologies.

"I forgive you." Every guard looked up sharply at him; it was something they hadn't expected. Merlin continued, "Maybe we can still be friends. That is why I learned your names in the first place, because I knew you were all great people."

* * *

><p><em>Present day<em>

Michael finished speaking and gazed at Claude to gauge his reaction. The young man looked confused and conflicted, which the guard supposed was normal.

"That all really happened?" the boy asked at last.

"Yes," Michael replied. He glanced at Hemlock who was still sitting still as a stone, but a gleam of amusement was apparent in his eyes. Michael well knew that look; it was the one he got whenever anything to do with Merlin cropped up.

The big man leaned forward and looked directly at Claude. "Michael and I managed to persuade Tymund and Gerald to come with us to see Merlin, and it seems that not a month goes by when one of them doesn't thank me for it. Almost every guard in this castle is friends with Merlin. And they all know the value of that.

"After we went to see Merlin we told the rest of our fellow guards what Merlin had said to us."

Michael chuckled. "Yeah, if they weren't intimidated by Hemlock's speech then they certainly were when they heard our tale. I don't know about where you come from, but around here forgiveness is not something easily offered. Merlin is a unique man. Everything he does he does for Arthur, and yet he never shows him any more respect than he deserves. He is one of the few people, and definitely the first of such a low position, to treat Arthur like a person.

"You know," Michael said as if he was returning to some earlier thought, "it took us a while, but eventually we got to a point where we were no longer awkward around him. And it was all his doing. He'd bring us food and drink during the really long shifts. He'd help us carry things and would assist with taking care of our armor. He'd always know when one of us was sick before even the ill person did and he would rush and get his guardian.

"Merlin is such a kind soul. There isn't a guard in Camelot that doesn't owe him something, not that he'd ever come collecting. And that's the main reason, you know."

"Main reason for what?" Claude asked.

All the guards in the room shared a knowing smile. Some even remembered when they'd been told the very same thing when they had first gotten the job of guard.

"Why you don't mess with Merlin. There are a lot of reasons. Like: if you ever do Arthur will kill you," Michael said. He looked like he was going to continue but Hemlock beat him to it.

"Or: if you ever harm him all of us guards will hunt you down and rip your guts out." He smiled menacingly.

"_Or,_" Michael said, giving his friend a pointed look. "Or the fact that Merlin has helped saved Camelot and literally saved Arthur's life more times than you ever will. Or that someday a certain physician might just slip a poison into your drink. Or because the boy has a kind of guts that are hard to come by."

"But the biggest reason," Hemlock prompted, "Is…."

"But the main reason is that Merlin is perhaps the most wonderful friend anyone can hope for. He and Arthur, though you might not think it at first, have a friendship that many envy because of its deep bond. He will always give help to those who need it and without anyone even asking for it. He doesn't judge you, he only sees the good stuff unless you hurt someone, in which case he'll probably scold you and leave at that. He hates to see anyone hurt or unhappy.

"Forgiveness wasn't very common in Camelot until Merlin arrived. He has helped a lot of people. So the real reason you shouldn't mess with or hurt Merlin is because he is one of the best and kindest people alive. And because you will be missing out on a very good friendship."

Michael and Hemlock reclined in their chairs and the rest of the guards seemed to relax a bit too. "Here endth the lesson," Hemlock said, his strange and scary grin lighting up his face.

"What lesson, did I miss out on anything?" a voice from the door asked. All in the room turned to see Merlin standing in the doorway holding a big basket of something.

"Merlin!" Hemlock exclaimed as he got up and strode over to him, giving him a bone-crushing hug when he got there.

Claude, for his part, was massively confused about not only the story, but about Hemlock as well. One moment the man seemed frightening, the next he seemed jovial and kind.

Hemlock and Merlin walked over to the table. Merlin set the basket down in the middle and opened it up. Inside were loaves and buns of fresh-smelling bread. "It helps to have a cook as a friend every now and again. Especially since she thinks that I need to eat more," Merlin said and smiled. Immediately all the men began digging in to the bread, apparently it was really good.

"Here, Claude," Merlin said, handing him a wonderful-looking bun.

"H-how do you know my name?" Claude asked, quite shaken.

The young man looked like he was about to answer when Hemlock clapped him hard on the back and the boy coughed and threatened to fall over from the force of it. "Oi! I'm delicate!" he said when he regained his breath. Everyone in the room laughed; apparently no one seemed to believe that to be the truth.

"What lesson?" Merlin asked Michael quietly. The two shared a long look and then Merlin nodded as if he understood.

Claude wondered if this strange boy, who he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to punch, knew what they had been talking about.

His suspicions were practically confirmed when Merlin said, "You know, I don't really like getting beat to a bloody pulp, but I have to admit that something good came out of all of that."

"What is it?" Claude asked, even though he was sure that the boy would say it was all the new friendships.

"To this day, unless he's too busy or has his arms full himself, Arthur always helps me carry his armor." Merlin smiled.

* * *

><p><em>Now, in case you have forgotten Merlin and Arthur had a little fight a few chapters back and it was about Merlin having to carry all his armor. This is the same argument that incited his whole beating thing. <em>

_I know! It's over! But don't worry, I've got a one or two chapter sequel planned and it's gonna have some more stuff with Claude and Merlin. I'm probably going to call it "Why Merlin Doesn't Mess With You" so yeah, it's not entirely over. This story, however, is completed. I really hope you liked it and remember that it was supposed to be cheesy. Please review, I want to know what you think of this chappy and this story as a whole. _

_Oh, and didn't you all LOVE the Merlin episode "Wicked Day" ?_

_"For I have overcome the World."_


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